The Continuing Story

Cold steel cracked hard against my ear. Instantly, I froze; rigid, and wide awake.

"That's right, boy," a rank whisper invaded the fresh air of morning, "Stay real still. Your sins have caught up with ye, and as soon as the sun peeks over that horizon, you're all gonna get what you deserve."

Fear ran cold in my blood, and sweat poured over my back. I couldn't speak, or run, or even move. As I slowly realized what was happening, all I could think, over and over again, was: "I wish I'd gone with Willie."

As the gun remained steadily trained on me, I watched the skyline; trembling. It was fading from black to dark blue. Oh yes, there it was - the first faint streak of sunrise.

Sweat trickled down the side of my face, and every nerve tingled. I tried to stay in control of myself; to look calm in these last few minutes of life - but my heart was racing, and my breath came in sharp and fast. I wanted to scream, to run, to disappear. "Oh...God in heaven. I'm not ready to die." I searched for more words to pray, but couldn't find any. With heavy conviction sinking hard in my chest, I knew I wasn't saved. I didn't know where I'd go when this was finally over, but I knew it wasn't heaven. 

"Get up, you." The guard hauled me to my feet. 

"Please," I thought, "Not the front, not the very first one..." but as the rest of the men filed up behind me, I knew there was no escape.

A firing squad formed a few feet in front of us. Everything ground to a blur as the last soldier took his place and, slowly, firmly, the command was given: ringing in the clear, morning air.

"Ready..."

I saw my whole life rise up before me.

"Aim..."

I squeezed my eyes shut, and waited, tense, for the impact of bullets. 

A shrill cry rent the air. Someone was pounding down the hill; I turned to look. It was...Willie?

"Wait! Don't fire! Don't fire!" the words came out in echoing shrieks. Willie stopped, breathless, before the commander. "Please, Sir," he was gasping for air, and tears streaked his dirty face. He pointed at me, "Let me take that man's place." 

The officer looked confused. "Explain yourself."

"Sir, that man isn't ready to die," Will's eyes were plaintive, but his voice steadied, a little. "He hasn't met God yet. But I am ready - I know where I'm going. Please," he took a deep breath, "Let him go."

In disbelief, I watched as the iron eyes of the executioner slowly turned to hold mine. A long, silent moment passed between us. Life and death teetered on a razor's edge - both fighting for the upper hand. 

With a tired sigh, he finally spoke. "Boy, you better run. If you aint over that hill before I count ten, we'll get you anyhow."

I ran. Ran for my life - ran, for the coward I was. Tearing through the long grass, I tripped, clawed for a foothold, ran on. Death was silent on my heals, breathing down my neck. Terrified, pushed on by sheer, pounding fear, I stumbled for the trees. Then, I heard the shots ring like thunder behind me, and looked back. Willie was gone - my one true friend. And I had let him die.

The Evangelist was silent for a moment, hearing the man's broken sobs - now understanding the weight he carried. He squatted down next to him and put a hand on his shoulder.

"You're right. This is a difficult situation - but not an impossible one. Actually, the same thing happened to me, so I really understand how you feel."

The man looked up with wet eyes. "Really?"

The Evangelist nodded slowly.

"Once I was a rebel. Yes, A rebel; heedless of the only real friend I ever had. My ways caught up with me, too. The enemy slipped in, and I wasn't strong or smart enough to fight him. He held me hostage; a slave to sin, waiting for death. But Jesus - He is the friend - gave himself over to the enemy to take my place. Just when I thought hope was gone, all the glory of sunrise burst into the night, the stone to His tomb rolled away, and with it, all my sin. He lives again, and still loves me - even thought it was my wrongs that caused his death. He forgave me and put peace in my heart. Now I've given my whole life to His service."

The evangelist looked down at the tombstone. "I can't do anything to bring your friend back to you, but I know that God can give you peace and forgiveness."

There, under the colored leaves of early autumn, with the sun gently caressing the great tomb, a weary, hopeless man gave his heart to Christ. His burdens were lifted, his sins forgiven, and his heart set free.

Papaw paused, and I looked into his face. His eyes were lifted up, as if he could really see God, away in the distance.

"Jesus is always ready to wash us, and make us clean. Without Him there is no true happiness or peace. His blood washes away even the most awful things any of us have ever done, and He has made a way for us to live with Him in heaven."

I looked back at the fire and watched it flicker across the logs. I would never forget this story.